


The Spaces Amid Love

by savvysav



Category: Mass Effect
Genre: (mostly) Canon Compliant, Alternate Universe, Angst, Destroy Ending, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Friendship/Love, POV Alternating, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-09
Updated: 2015-12-18
Packaged: 2018-04-30 18:16:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 15
Words: 17,588
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5174231
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/savvysav/pseuds/savvysav
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"This was all very, very strange. He had been warned by Miranda and Dr. Chakwas that they had no idea what he would be stumbling in to, or if it would even work, but he wasn’t quite sure that he expected this, exactly."</p><p>Shepard has been in a coma for a year following the Crucible blast although she has physically recovered. Miranda suggests that the answer may lie in her subconscious, and hopes to use former Cerberus technology to help Garrus bring Shepard back.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chance

**Author's Note:**

> The title of this work is a nod to a quote from the Jonathan Safran Foer novel "Everything Is Illuminated".
> 
> "These are my ghosts, the spaces amid love."

It had been almost a year since they had found Shepard in the ruins of the crucible. It had been almost a year that she had been in the coma. Almost a year that he had been sitting with her in the hospital every day, holding her hand and waiting for the moment when she would wake up and find him there waiting for her.  
  
They were stationed in a hospital somewhere outside of London in a less populated area that had been somewhat spared from the devastation of the Reapers. London was still largely in shambles, but the rebuilding efforts were going well. With so many from the galaxy stranded in the Sol system it had required them to continue their coordinated effort, if only to ensure survival for everyone left behind. The repairs of the relays were going well, but they still didn’t allow for jumps so there was at the moment no inter-system travelling. The inter-system comms had been repaired though, so Garrus knew at least that his dad and Solana were safe.  
  
“How are things looking today, Garrus?” Karin Chakwas asked softly, coming up behind him in a pair of scrubs and a long lab coat.  
  
As her medical skills included a fairly comprehensive knowledge of a number of species, Karin had been in high demand after the battle for London, but her one demand was that she still be able to coordinate the care for Shepard. Miranda had been thoroughly involved as well, which Garrus was thankful for. They had needed the knowledge of Shepard’s cybernetics, and no one could give them better information than Miranda.  
  
“Good, I think. She seems to be resting calmly today,” he said, running his talons slowly through her hair. It had grown so much in the past year he could hardly believe it. It still fascinated him. Shepard had always liked it when he played with her hair. Garrus hoped that she knew somewhere in her subconscious that he was here—that he had been here the whole time. I’ve always got your six, he thought.  
  
“Glad to hear it,” Chakwas said. At that, there was a soft knock on the door. It opened shortly after and Miranda and Liara walked in, much to their surprise.  
  
“Garrus!” Liara exclaimed in greeting, moving to hug him. Miranda nodded at him and then spoke quietly to Chakwas while going over a data pad that seemed to be of great interest.  
  
“Liara—it’s good to see you. Though we weren’t expecting you for a few more weeks. Did you find something?” Garrus asked hopefully.  
  
Shepard’s coma had been an unusual one, according to Chakwas and Miranda. She had a very strong amount of brain activity and fairly consistent vitals. She gave the appearance of an almost full recovery despite the fact that she was still not awake.  
  
“I’m not going to try and give you false hope, Garrus,” Miranda stated in her usually clipped manner of speaking. “We may have found something promising, but this is in no way a guarantee. The technology was experimental even when Cerberus was active. Although they seemed to have finished it, it was still a prototype.”  
  
“I’m willing to do whatever it takes, Lawson. I’m not some lovesick kid gunning for the happy ending here, but if this is our best shot you know I have to take it,” Garrus responded, getting up from Shepard’s side.  
  
“When the Illusive Man was set on discovering the secret to Reaper indoctrination, he funded some interesting research on the human subconscious, including tools which explored the unconscious mind—things like dreaming, deep sleep, and the comatose mind. It did not necessarily prove to be valuable to him in terms of indoctrination, but there was some interesting work done on traumatic experiences and unconscious strategies of coping,” Miranda stated.  
  
“Shepard endured an unimaginable trauma in the Battle of London, and even before that,” Liara said quietly. “We believe that her subconscious may have her in a comatose state in order to work through the trauma she has experienced.”  
  
Garrus nodded. “So tell me about this prototype. How does that play into all of this?”  
  
Chakwas cleared her throat then, reviewing the data pad that Miranda had given her. “Garrus, we may have a way to view what is happening in Shepard’s subconscious. Essentially this Cerberus prototype would allow us to link someone else’s subconscious to Shepard’s, effectively allowing them to experience it with her—”  
  
“I’ll do it,” Garrus said immediately, straightening himself up.  
  
“Just a moment Garrus,” Miranda said. “Linking your subconscious minds does not necessarily mean you will be able to wake her up. Shepard will only be able to wake when she is subconsciously ready, when her mind has worked through her traumatic experience enough to allow her to cope when she is awake. We have no idea what kind of situation has been constructed or what the parameters will be. You’d be going in blind, and you would in no way be able to influence her to wake up. Doing so could have disastrous consequences.”  
  
Garrus nodded in consideration. He was glad that the women in the room could not understand his subvocals, which at the moment were emitting a strong mix of hope and desperation.  
  
“Alright,” he said. “Tell me absolutely everything I need to know.”  
  



	2. Lost

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've added a photo I took from a few years ago that inspired the setting for this story. I hope you continue to enjoy it. After receiving so much positive feedback on the first chapter I was admittedly very nervous about posting the next one.
> 
> I hope you like it.

 

Jane Shepard woke up before the alarm that morning, looking forward to getting outside for her regular morning run and trying to forget about the night before. It was just before 5:30am and the village was pretty quiet at this time. Most of the locals ran a bit later on in the morning and all of the tourists were still fast asleep. She didn’t have to work this weekend and was looking forward to having some time to herself. After putting on all of her running gear she exited her small apartment in the north village and started on her regular route up the trail to Lost Lake. It was a good temperature, not too warm,as the chill of winter had finally left with the melting of most of the snow. She was looking forward to the blossoming spring, and summer also meant that a lot of the tourists would start to head out as the season wound down with only one of the peaks open through May.  
  
The sun had started to rise earlier these days, and now she could just see the streaking pinks and oranges in the sky that hastened its arrival. She pushed herself harder then, hoping to make it up to the lake before the sun did.  
  
It was one of her absolute favourite places on earth. She had done a lot of travelling throughout the world, but she always came back here, close to home. Vancouver was only an hour and a half away, but without her parents it felt expansive and empty. Whistler was smaller, easier to manage without them. Jane worked as a bartender in one of the places on the village stroll. It wasn’t a very stimulating job, but it wasn’t difficult either, and it paid the bills. She was in her early thirties with very few responsibilities so it kept things comfortable at the very least.  
  
She was rounding the corner of the trail now where it would open up to the main view of the lake. There was a bit of a beach down there, some nice shady spaces for relaxing during the summer, and a collection of trails that travelled around the entire lake. This morning she thought she would take her time and do the full loop as she had more than enough time to spare. It was quiet and peaceful, and she knew that there shouldn’t be anyone around at this time…  
  
Which was why she was so surprised to see someone standing on the edge of the beach when she rounded the corner.  
  
His back was towards her as he stared out over the expanse of the small lake and he seemed to be lost in thought with his hands in the pockets of his dark blue hoodie. The man was very tall and lean with broad shoulders. Jane couldn’t help but smile a little as she watched him tilt his head to the side in confusion, it seemed. There was something about him that intrigued her, although she was fully aware that she probably shouldn’t be approaching men she didn’t know in secluded areas during the early hours of the morning.  
  
“Are you lost?” she asked, slowing up the pace and keeping a safe distance from the man. He turned around at the sound of her voice, seemingly dumbstruck. He didn’t respond, but just stared at her.  
  
“Are you lost?” she asked again. “Do you need help getting back to the village?”  
  
He furrowed his brow in confusion.  
  
For some reason it made her laugh, despite his obviously helpless state. She imagined he was likely some tourist who had been on a bender and either wandered up here or was ditched here by some friends looking to get a laugh.  
  
“You must have had quite the night!”  
  
He nodded at this but did not say anything.

Jane snuck a look at him, taking in his handsomely squared jaw and very defined cheekbones. His dark hair was brushed back and the ends stuck out messily at the back of his head. She noticed that the right side of his face had scarring that looked like it might have been a burn of some kind. He had a fairly stern expression on his face and regarded her closely. She noticed at that moment how very blue his eyes were; intensely so—not unlike the pure blue sky that you see on the sunniest of days. She looked away quickly, realizing that she had been staring for far too long and that neither of them had spoken in quite a while.  
  
“Where is this?” he finally asked.

He had a deep, resonant voice that made Jane feel a flutter of something in her stomach. It seemed oddly familiar to her, like a bit of deja vu.  
  
“This is Lost Lake, near Whistler, B.C. How’d you end up here, anyway? I know most of the locals, and I think I would remember you,” she said. “Crazy night out with your friends or something? Were you drinking last night?”  
  
His expression did not change, concentrating thoroughly. It seemed to Jane that he was trying hard to remember. “I’m not sure,” he said after a moment or two of thought. 

  
Jane sighed. Somehow she always happened to have the oddest interactions, helping out the strangers and lost tourists, and she thought that she shouldn’t have been surprised that her morning run would be interrupted on her day off.  
  
“I had planned on running the loop around the lake this morning, and I shouldn’t be too long. If you’re here when I get back, I can walk you to the village. Sound like a plan?” she asked as she stretched out her shoulders and arms.  
  
He nodded at her, and made his way to sit on one of the large driftwood longs on the edge of the beach. Jane nodded back at him and continued her run. She couldn’t quite shake the lingering feeling of time repeating itself, as if she had seen the stranger somewhere before. Shepard pushed the thought away and picked up the pace as she ran onto the trail. 


	3. Acquaintance

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm going away for the next week and I won't be posting another update until after I return. I've been getting a lot of positive notes and good feedback, so I wanted to show my appreciation by posting another chapter.
> 
> I hope you like it!

When she was finally out of sight Garrus took the opportunity to pull his hands—five fingered, human hands—out of his pockets. He held them out in front of him, turning them over with intense curiousity. He brought them up to the sides of his face, feeling the scars on his right jaw, but also noting the distinctive lack of mandibles. Finally, he brought his hands up to run his fingers through what was definitely hair. His hair.  
  
This was all very, very strange. He had been warned by Miranda and Chakwas that they had no idea what he would be stumbling in to, or if it would even work, but he wasn’t quite sure that he expected this, exactly. He had woken up on the beach, seemingly in the middle of nowhere on who-knows-what planet with what very much appeared to be a human body. He had had only a moment to let it sink in before he was interrupted by the sound of a voice. Her voice—the one he had been longing to hear for nearly a year.  
  
He stopped dead in that moment, hardly wishing to breathe for fear that it would all slip away from him like so many of the dreams he had been having since the night that the Crucible had fired. But he had turned around and there she was, with her beautiful red hair, and those brilliant green eyes, staring at him like she could see into his soul. It took absolutely all of his will to stop himself from rushing forward and taking her up in his arms to kiss her as deeply as he could.  
  
He wanted to wait for her to make the first move, to see what would happened, but his heart sunk when he realized that she in no way recognized him. She has no idea who I am, he thought as she questioned him. At least she had offered to take him back to some village or other, so he was determined to wait for her as long as she needed him to. That part at least was very distinctly Shepard: going out of her way to help someone in need.  
  
Garrus took a few moments to admire the view, scanning the lake and the trees surrounding it. It was a quiet and peaceful place, although a little bit cold. He wondered if she had been here before sometime in her life. He could understand why Jane might have imagined herself in this secluded place on earth; it was the the opposite environment to a military ship travelling through space to fight sentient, synthetic monsters. He allowed himself to give a small laugh at the thought.  
  
“Something funny?” a familiar voice asked as she ran up to him, breathing heavily.  
  
He stood up and turned himself toward her. “Just an interesting situation, I guess. But I don’t mind the view.”  
  
She laughed too, and Garrus let the sound linger in the air. It made his chest ache with an acute awareness.  
  
“This is my favourite place. My solitude,” she said, turning out to look across the water. She took it in for a few moments before turning back to Garrus and extending a hand to him.  
  
“I’m Jane Shepard. Most people just call me Shepard,” she said.  
  
Garrus reached out to shake her hand. It was an odd sensation, having a large five-fingered hand that so easily gripped hers. He had held her hand so many times before, but that had been with turian talons, and this was a distinctively different feeling.  
  
“Garrus,” he said, “Garrus Vakarian.”

She raised an eyebrow at that. He knew that expression well from being around her so often, and he noticed that she hadn’t let go of his hand yet.  
  
“Are you alright?” he asked with concern.  
  
She retracted her hand. “What? Oh, right—sorry. Just deja vu, you know? This seems really familiar. Almost like we’ve met before.”  
  
Garrus just nodded at this. Excitement burned inside his chest. He didn’t want to push her, remembering what Miranda had said. There was no way he was going to chance any negative results. He thought it best to follow along and see where things would go. Thinking on it, that was how he could describe his relationship with Shepard at its most basic form. He just needed to trust that she would figure it out.  
  
“So, Garrus,” she said, “Still no idea how you ended up here? Do you know where you’re staying?”  
  
“No,” he replied honestly, “I just kind of woke up here. No idea where I am.”  
  
“Well, at least you remember your name.”  
  
He stole a glance over at her before saying, “It’s a good thing you came by. I would have been totally lost without you.”  
  
He saw her blush at that and it made him feel warm. It was nice to know that their chemistry was still there. It gave Garrus hope that the memories were still there too. He turned away in order to stop himself from staring.  
  
“I know this must sound really strange to you, but I have this lingering feeling that I know you somehow,” she said quietly.  
  
“Maybe in another life,” he responded.  
  
She laughed quietly and put her hands on her hips in a very Commander Shepard way. “You know, I haven’t really got anywhere to be today. How do you feel about grabbing some breakfast?”  
  
He nodded at this, not wanting to sound too excited. Shepard turned and started walking up the path and Garrus naturally fell in step beside her. Aside from the fact that he felt the odd sensation of walking on human legs, it was entirely natural.  
  
“Sure, I could do breakfast.”  
  



	4. History

They had walked in near silence the rest of the way to the village, and Shepard had to admit that it was oddly comfortable. It felt routine, even. It was very odd to her that she could feel this way in the presence of a stranger, especially one with amnesia that she had found on a beach. But he did in fact seem to fit the “tall, dark, and handsome” bill, and maybe even the “strong, silent type”. _Such a sucker for the classics_ , she thought as they approached the diner.  
  
She sat down at her usual corner table and Garrus sat across from her. Dave, the owner, came over with two cups of coffee and set them down.  
  
“The usual?” he asked gruffly. Shepard nodded as she poured some sugar and milk into her coffee.  
  
“And for you?” Dave asked Garrus.   
  
“I’ll, uh, have the usual too, I guess,” he said as he smirked at Shepard.  
  
She could feel another blush coming up her cheeks. She wasn’t quite sure how she could be so immediately attracted to this stranger, but in a way some part of her was really enjoying it. They sat quietly stirring their coffees for a short while before Dave came back and dropped two plates in front of them.  
  
“Ugh, what is this?” Garrus asked, looking down at his plate.  
  
“You’ve never had eggs benedict?!” Shepard exclaimed. “What planet are you even from?”  
  
She noticed that Garrus chuckled nervously across from her and awkwardly picked up his utensils. Shepard wasted no time before digging in to her meal while Garrus started more tentatively.  
  
“So, uh, tell me a bit about yourself, Shepard,” Garrus said between small bites.  
  
She took a sip of her coffee and considered the seemingly innocent question for a moment before answering. She wasn’t sure how much she was willing to tell him, although it was a fairly straightforward story. No one felt too good about hearing about a sad orphan.  
  
“Not much to tell,” she said finally. “I used to live in Vancouver with my parents. They died when I was young, so I was on my own for a while. When I finally turned eighteen I took off and travelled for a few years, working odd jobs to sustain myself and just seeing where life took me, you know?  Eventually I wanted to come back home but I couldn’t quite get myself to stay in Vancouver again, so I came up here. I remember my parents bringing me up here once or twice when I was fairly young. My Dad taught me to swim in that lake that I found you at. It’s quiet and comfortable here. Gives me space to do my own thing and just enjoy life.”  
  
She wasn’t quite sure where it had all come from, but here she was spilling her guts to a perfect stranger over an early morning breakfast. _Sad orphan bits and all_ , she thought. Something about him made her want to be honest. It was as though she inherently knew that he could handle it; that he would take it all in stride and wouldn’t judge her.  
  
Garrus nodded at her and continued to eat his breakfast.  
  
After a few moments he quietly asked, “Are you happy here?”  
  
She was struck by the question and silently considered it for a few minutes while Garrus watched her with those piercing blue eyes, patiently waiting for the answer. She was impressed by his resolve.   “I like it here,” she said, knowingly avoiding the question.  
  
She was content here, and she liked it, but she knew that _content_ and _happy_ were two different things. There was a feeling deep in the pit of her stomach that she was missing something, a nagging sensation that would never really leave. Shepard always found a reason to ignore it. _No matter how careful you are, there’s going to be the sense you missed something, the collapsed feeling under your skin that you didn’t experience it all. There’s that fallen heart feeling that you rushed right through the moments where you should’ve been paying attention._ She pushed it away.  
  
“Why don’t you tell me a bit about yourself, Garrus. Well, anything you remember, I guess.”  
  
He nodded at this and Shepard saw him take a moment to collect his thoughts, just as she had done. He too was trying to abridge his story, or perhaps recall whatever he could. She wasn’t quite sure which.  
  
“I was enlisted in the military when I came of age. After a few years I transferred out and started working as a detective on the Cita—er, in the city. It was a good job, but after a while I guess I was getting frustrated with it. I had this really important case that I was working on—a rogue agent—but my hands were tied. There was this woman from another…military agency who was going to go after him, but I guess you would say it was pretty frowned upon for me to help her out. Blurring the lines on appropriate detective work, I guess. I ended up leaving my job to help her track the agent down. We found him eventually and it turned out he was just a small part of a larger conspiracy.  
  
"Well, she wouldn’t give up on it, no matter what everyone else said. It was a rough couple of years, but she managed to come back and rally everyone together. Saved the world, you could say. It was quite the adventure,” he finished quietly.  
  
“Wow,” Shepard said, quite impressed. This sounded like one hell of a woman. “You’re like a regular James Bond right here. So tell me, did you get the girl?”  
  
Garrus raised an eyebrow at this, looking confused. He asked hesitantly, “What do you mean?”  
  
“Oh come on! Teaming up with some badass rogue agent to go after the bad guy? It’s right out of a movie. I bet she was gorgeous. Did you hate each other at first, but slowly fall in love after all of your adventures together? I can just picture it on the screen,” Shepard teased, putting her thumbs and forefingers up to peer at him through a makeshift viewfinder.  
  
She let up a bit when she noticed a distant look in his eyes and the sad smile he wore. He stared down at his coffee cup for a while, sitting very still, and she knew that she had hit a sore spot. She waited for him to say something, not wanting to put her foot in it any further.  
  
“I respected the hell out of her. A crack shot, determined, and the kindest person you could ever meet. She was a natural leader. We became friends—best friends—over the course of our mission,” he said, still staring into his coffee cup. He said it with soft, deep tones of his voice. She could feel the layers of emotion coming through them.  
  
He took a sip and then continued. “I was in love with her long before I realized it myself, but I never thought she would be interested in me. We were…different. She was actually the one who brought it up first, and when we finally got together it was the most natural thing in the world. I can’t stand the idea of life without her.”  
  
Shepard noticed that he brought his eyes up to study her face, staring intently at her, and she could see the longing in them.  
  
“I’m sorry,” she said immediately, “it doesn’t sound like it was the happy ending I was hoping for.”  
  
“You never know,” he said, “that happy ending might still be out there somewhere.”  
  
She reached out and took his hand in hers in an attempt to be reassuring. After a few moments Shepard was still holding his hand, she realized, when she felt Garrus run his thumb softly against the back of her own.  
  
“You all about finished here?” a gruff voice interrupted. Shepard jerked her hand back and looked up at Dave, who was clearing up the table.  
  
“Sure thing Dave,” she said, pulling out some money and putting it down.  
  
“Oh,” Garrus replied. “I, uh, don’t actually think I have anything on me.”  
  
“I’ll cover you. You can make it up to me later when we get you sorted out.”  
  
“Thanks, Shepard. I appreciate it.”  
  
“No problem big guy,” she said instantly. “Let’s get out of here.”  
  
“Right behind you, Shepard.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> “No matter how careful you are, there's going to be the sense you missed something, the collapsed feeling under your skin that you didn't experience it all. There's that fallen heart feeling that you rushed right through the moments where you should've been paying attention. Well, get used to that feeling. That's how your whole life will feel some day. This is all practice.” ― Chuck Palahniuk, Invisible Monsters


	5. Adjusting

Garrus wouldn’t be much of a detective if he couldn’t figure out that it was definitely not 2186 in Shepard’s subconscious reality. It was all very surreal to him. Shepard imagined it to be sometime in the early 21st century, well before common space flight, FTL travel, and any understanding that other species existed in the galaxy. Garrus had to keep reminding himself that he had to play by the rules of Shepard’s subconscious—especially when she was expecting him to eat that disgusting looking breakfast. Surprisingly, it hadn’t tasted bad, but he had to imagine that it in this case he was living through Shepard’s memory of what the food tasted like.  
  
It was all he could do to keep himself together during their conversation, and if Shepard hadn’t imagined him in human form he knew his subvocals would have started keening the moment she took his hand. _She doesn’t remember you_ , he had to repeat to himself.  
  
Now he was sitting in the living room of her small apartment after she had offered to help him figure out the “mystery” of how he had ended up here. He felt bad for deceiving her, but felt it best to go along with charade for now until he could make a plan.  
  
“So, where are you from again? I don’t think you mentioned at breakfast,” she said, sitting down on the couch beside him.  
  
“Uh, I’m from London,” Garrus said. It was the first thing that came to mind; he wasn’t too familiar with Earth geography.  
  
“London? London, England?” Shepard asked, with a very characteristically raised eyebrow. “You don’t have an accent.”  
  
_Oh spirits_ , he thought. “Oh, well, I live in London, but I wasn’t born there. I moved there recently, after everything that happened with y—you know. What I mentioned at breakfast.”  
  
“Right,” she said. “So you don’t remember how you ended up here?”  
  
“Well, no, not really. I’m not sure where I am, and I don’t know if I have anywhere to go,” he said sheepishly, running a hand through his hair. He noticed that it was quickly becoming a habit.  
  
“It’s okay,” she said. “We’ll get to the bottom of it. Until then, you could stay here. If you wanted to. The couch is pretty comfortable.”  
  
She had said it casually enough, but he knew it carried some weight to it. There was an invitation there, an acknowledgement of trust. This surprised him; in this reality she barely knew him.  
  
“Are you sure Shepard? You don’t have to do that. You hardly know me. Not that I don’t appreciate the offer, but I don’t want you to feel uncomfortable.”  
  
She turned her body towards him, leaning closer to him on the couch, studying his face carefully. Eventually she said, “It’s strange. Something about this—about you—feels so reassuring. It’s weird, isn’t it?”  
  
Garrus was acutely aware that she was mere inches from him now, close enough that he could distinctly make out her beautiful freckles, close enough that he could see the beautiful gold flecks in her deep green eyes. He had the very distinct feeling of standing on the edge of a cliff, all adrenaline and fear. Garrus needed to be careful here.  
  
“Not at all. I know I’m devilishly handsome,” he teased, effectively ending the moment.  
  
She laughed at that and got up from her seat.  
  
“You can take a shower, if you’d like. We have no idea where you were before you ended up at the lake. Might help you unwind a bit. In the meantime, I’ll make some calls to some hotels in the village and see if they’ve got a record of you staying there.”  
  
“Sure. Thanks, Shepard. I really do appreciate it, just so you know,” he said, heading to the bathroom.  
  
He closed the door behind him and leaned his back against it, letting out a sigh. It was obvious that Shepard knew him—somewhere deep down—that she remembered him and everything that they had been through, but something was holding her back. On the surface they were still perfect strangers.  
  
He didn’t know where to go from here. He couldn’t afford to make a mistake, couldn’t afford to lose her for a third time. He turned on the shower and undressed, stepping inside the steaming water. Garrus tried to level out his emotions and get back into a logical frame of mind.  
  
A few things were consistent, at least. Shepard had been orphaned at a young age and had grown up in a city somewhere on earth. Garrus hadn’t known that it was Vancouver, but it made sense. Whistler did too, after he heard what she said about her parents. She must have been fairly young, but he supposed that it made the association that much stronger if it was a memory from within the recesses of her mind. It was obviously a memory that Shepard correlated with happiness and safety in a time that existed well before the traumas of her tenure with the Alliance. And her time with me, he thought.  
  
He clenched his fists together at his sides. A part of him was angry that everything was so easily forgotten for her, hiding out here in this alternate understanding of things that had erased all of the moments they had spent together. Garrus hoped that it wasn’t because she wanted to forget him. He wanted to be sure that what existed between them during their time on the Normandy was better than all of the terrible things that had been woven throughout it.  
  
He put his hands on the wall of the shower and lowered his head, letting the water cascade over his back. He stayed like that for a few moments before he heard the bathroom door open.  
  
“I’ve got my eyes closed!” Shepard said, stepping into the room. “I’m just wondering if you want me to wash your clothes. I was going to throw in a quick load of laundry.”  
  
“You sure you're not here to join me?” he said without thinking.  
  
He heard Shepard giggle on the other side of the shower curtain.  
  
“Keep dreaming, Garrus. I’m just here for your clothes. Take all the time you need. These will probably be a while. There are fresh towels in here, and a clean robe if you want.”  
  
She closed the door and Garrus cursed himself. He thought of all the times they had showered together in her cabin: so often that it became an every day routine. The lines were blurring for Garrus. He needed to be more careful. There was no way to know how Shepard was going to react and he needed to be more considerate.  
  
He and Shepard had always had chemistry, an unquantifiable something that always made them work well together. There was no accounting for it, it just was. He was glad to know that it was still in Shepard’s awareness, but it kept tripping him up, making it all too easy to fall into old habits.  
  
Garrus needed to be smarter about this. He needed to get this right. 


	6. Curiosity

Shepard had called all of the major hotels in the village and none of them had any record of a Garrus Vakarian staying with them. It was as if he had appeared out of nowhere, being thrown into the path of Shepard’s life without any warning at all. It didn’t seem to bother her though; somehow she felt reassured by his presence. He joked with her like they were old friends and she was inherently put at ease by the handsome stranger.  
  
She had to wonder where this was coming from. She had felt a bit lonely lately, stuck in the typical routine. There was a certain amount of safety that came from the comfortable repetition of every day life, but that didn’t mean that there wasn’t something left to be desired.  
  
She heard the shower turn off, and a few moments later heard Garrus walk into the living room behind her.  
  
“You’re right, Shepard, I do feel a lot better after that. Thanks,” he said.  
  
“No problem,” she said, turning toward him. “Your clothes are almost—oh.”  
  
She stopped mid sentence, caught very much off guard by the nearly naked man standing in the middle of her apartment. He had lazily wrapped a towel around his waist and water was slowly dripping down his body from his damp hair. Her eyes followed the trail of it down his chest and across his muscular stomach. She lost her train of thought entirely.  
  
“You like what you see, Shepard?” he said, smiling.  
  
_Cocky bastard_ , she thought. There was no denying that he was attractive. Or that she was attracted to him.  
  
“I hope you’re not teasing me, Garrus,” Shepard said seductively, hoping to give him a taste of his own medicine. She stepped towards him and watched as a very revealing blush crept across his cheeks.  
  
“Oh, uh, well,” he stammered.  
  
Shepard couldn’t help but laugh at how endearing it was. She was standing so close to him now that she had to look up to meet his eyes with her own. It was then that she realized just how tall he was, and she found herself wondering if she’d have to step up on her tiptoes to kiss him.  
  
Her thoughts were interrupted by the sound of the dryer finishing with Garrus’ clothes. _Get it together Shep_ , she thought. She retrieved his clothes and handed them to him.  
  
He covered her hands with his for a moment, and said, “You didn’t need to do this, Shepard. Any of it.”  
  
“It’s nothing, really. I want to help you,” she said, her hands still under his.  
  
“Well, thanks. For what’s it’s worth.” They stood like that for a few moments before he continued. “Right—I should get dressed.”  
  
“Right. I’m going to take a quick shower myself. Maybe afterwards we could head out and walk through the village stroll? It’s this nice pedestrian path that cuts through the main parts of Whistler village. It might jog some memories if you see anything that looks familiar,” she said before heading down the hallway.  
  
She regarded herself in the bathroom mirror, scrutinizing her features. She had the somewhat unique combination of red hair and green eyes which were fairly fetching, but she found herself wondering how she would stack up to the badass lost love that Garrus had described over breakfast. Shepard knew that she was pretty, in a natural kind of way, but certainly not a commanding presence to rival what she was imaging the mystery woman to be.  
  
_Why should I care?_ she thought, undressing and turning on the shower.  
  
There was no good reason that she should be turning her stomach in knots over this guy. He had amnesia and she was trying to be a decent human being—not trying to take advantage of someone in a bad situation. Still, that didn’t mean that she couldn’t try to look halfway presentable. She showered quickly and towelled off, but took a bit of time to blow dry her hair and put on some mascara.  
  
She walked back into the living room a little while later in a comfortably flattering outfit and noticed Garrus reviewing her bookshelf with great concentration. She leaned against the doorway, observing him as he would look over the spines, pull out a book and flip through its pages before returning it to its place.  
   
“You have quite a lot of books,” he said without looking up.  
  
“Er, yeah,” she said, caught off guard, “I love to read. I like learning, exploring…escaping. There are so many things you can experience through books.”  
  
“Which is your favourite?” he asked.   
  
She walked over to stand by the shelf and pulled out a very worn copy of _Persuasion_. “I read this at least twice a year. It’s always been a favourite of mine.”  
  
She watched as Garrus carefully inspected at all of the dog-eared pages and the telling crack running down the book’s spine.  
  
“Definitely looks like its put up with some abuse,” he said. “What’s it about?”  
  
She blushed at this, somehow embarrassed that her favourite novel was so romantic. She wished that had thought more strategically and handed him something like Slaughterhouse Five or Fight Club—something that would give off a more “badass-y” vibe.  
  
“Well, um, its about a woman named Anne who is talked out of marrying the man she loves because he isn’t deemed to be worthy of her social station. She always regrets it and so she doesn’t end up marrying anyone at all.   Then, years later, circumstance brings her and her lost love to the same place and it turns out he’s now a very successful Naval Captain, while, coincidentally, her family is on the brink of ruin. So it all revolves about her reconciling her feelings and relationship with him while everyone is telling her to marry him because his fortune can save her.  
   
“Through the whole thing you wonder whether or not they’ll be together in the end, and if it’s really love or not,” she said, slightly embarrassed.  
  
“And?” he asked, looking at her intently. She noticed that he was clutching the book in his hands.  
  
“And what?”  
  
“Is it really love?” he asked quietly.  
  
Shepard was quiet for a moment, thinking. It was something about the way he said it, the way those beautiful eyes were fixed on her, that made her breath catch in her throat. She could feel something building in the space between them; it was a deep blue ocean that dared her to jump. She wasn’t ready for it—not yet.  
  
“Well Garrus, I guess you’ll just have to read it and find out.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to all of those who are continuing to read this, and to those who may have more recently come across it. I am so glad that I have been able to share this with all of you.


	7. Inklings

_Oh for spirits’ sake, keep it together Vakarian_ , Garrus reprimanded himself.  
  
Physical books were hard to come by without great cost in their time—with the exception of the beautiful collection that Kasumi had brought onto the Normandy. It was obvious that Shepard loved them. He never recalled her reading much aside from mission reports and updates, but he supposed that she never really had the time. Maybe she would have read more if she had had the time. He had to wonder how much of this imagining was what Shepard wished her life had actually been.  
  
On Shepard’s recommendation they had walked the entire village stroll in an attempt to jog his memory. Unsurprisingly, it had turned up no leads. Shepard, dissatisfied at what she thought to be a failed investigation, suggested they go up to Lost Lake to retrace their steps and think.  
  
Garrus hated the deceptive game he was playing, and wondered if it was worth it to be honest and just lay it all out for her. He pushed the idea away. He didn’t know what he could say that would give Shepard some solid evidence that didn’t make him sound crazy. This was all very unknown territory and he was losing ground fast. How do you tell someone that the life they’re living isn’t real? How do you make them believe it?  
  
When the Crucible had fired and Shepard had been reported missing Garrus had been devastated. Although he was told she likely hadn’t survived he refused to give up until he had found her. She was just barely holding on by the time they had finally gotten to her. She had been recovered by some civilians and was being held in a field hospital. He waited for hours while she was in surgery, pacing back and forth under the scrutiny of the nurses who were unable to make him leave the waiting area.  
  
Every day after that he had stayed with her there, day in and day out holding her hand, brushing her hair, reading to her—anything to let her know that he was never leaving her side. Garrus liked to think that Shepard could hear him, and that she was working her way back to him by sheer will, trying to wake herself up.  
  
Now that he was here, experiencing this with her, he realized how desperate those thoughts might have been. In the reality her mind had created she was insulated from all of the horrible things that had happened over the last three years. All of the anger, pain, guilt—it had been a horrible burden for Shepard to bear, but Garrus had tried to be there for her and do everything he could to lighten the load. He had always thought that the pain that he went through had been a worthy trade for finding the love of his life. Perhaps he was naive to think that Shepard might have felt the same way. Maybe the pain of remembering everything that happened outweighed the comfort of his love.  
  
Shepard’s voice pulled him out of his thoughts. He was vaguely aware of Shepard laying out a plan for Garrus to stay with her while they figured out a solution to his memory problem.  
  
“It’s very kind of you, but I really don’t want to impose,” he said. “And I don’t want to make your boyfriend jealous or anything.”

He had included the joke to see if it would prompt any recognition on her part. Maybe in this reality Shepard imagined herself with someone else entirely. The thought made his chest ache.  
  
Shepard laughed at this. “Don’t worry Garrus. I had been looking forward to a relaxing evening at home anyway. I hope you don’t mind just hanging out.”  
  
“Not at all. And the boyfriend?” he joked.  
  
“None to speak of,” Shepard said nonchalantly.  
  
“Any particular reason why?” he said, trying to stay casual. He was finding it very hard to play it cool.  
  
“Just haven’t met anyone that I wanted to be around that much, I guess. A lot of guys seem to have a problem with a woman who just wants to do her own thing. I want someone to respect me, to recognize that I’m competent, and strong, and independent. More than anything else I want a partner, and I just haven’t found that yet,” she said.  
  
“You want to be able to charge into battle and know that someone’s watching your six,” he said quietly.  
  
“Something like that."  
  
“You deserve nothing less. You’re an amazing person, Shepard.”  
  
He saw her face flush with embarrassment.  
  
“You know Garrus, I’ve really enjoyed your company today. It’s been a while since I’ve spent so much time with another person.”  
  
“Don’t you have friends that you hang out with regularly?”  
  
“Close friends just seem like a liability. The closer they are, the greater the disappointment when it all falls apart,” she said quietly.  
  
Garrus was surprised at this. Shepard had always been the one that kept them all glued together, the ridiculous band of misfits that had served on the Normandy. The losses had been hard ones: Kaidan on Virmire, Mordin, Thane, and Legion. He knew that she had felt them all. There was nothing Shepard valued more than friendship. _Or trust_ , he thought.  
  
He deflected her previous comment with humour. “Are you always such an optimist?”  
  
“I like to think I’m being realistic.”  
  
“A good friend once told me that ‘Life is a negotiation. We all want and we all give to get what we want.’ I don’t think that optimism and realism are mutually exclusive. It still comes down to what you want and what you give,” Garrus said.  
  
Mordin had said that to Shepard once, he recalled. He hoped she would recognize it. Garrus was watching her carefully as they walked. Shepard gave him a curious look and cleared her throat.  
  
“We should probably get the couch set up for you to go to sleep. I’m ready for bed myself,” she said, effectively ending that line of conversation.   
  
Garrus nodded, and they finished the rest of their walk in silence.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bonus chapter. I've gotten a lot of writing done recently.


	8. Recollections

Shepard bolted upright in bed, breathing hard. She had been having a strange dream, all voices and nosies floating around her, but everything was dark. She threw back the covers and stretched out her arms and shoulders, breathing deeply. She knew all of the regular steps to this routine; it seemed that every time she closed her eyes she was plagued with these dreams. They were not all unpleasant, though sometimes they did devolve into vivid nightmares. She would take a few deep breaths, could get a cup of tea, or perhaps read for a bit—anything to take a bit of time to reset before going back to sleep.  
  
Shepard was surprised to hear the bathroom tap running. When she walked out into the hallway she could see Garrus leaning over the sink as he splashed his face with water. Shepard leaned against the door frame, crossing her arms over her chest.  
  
“Can’t sleep?” she asked.  
  
“No. Looks like you can’t either,” he said, drying his face.   
  
“How do you feel about a late night cup of tea? I could make a pot.”  
  
Garrus nodded and followed her into the kitchen, sitting down at the small table while Shepard put on the tea kettle. She pulled out two mugs.   
  
“Is camomile okay? It’s relaxing; it’s supposed to help you sleep,” she said.   
  
“Sounds good.”  
  
He was sitting very still, regarding her carefully with those very perceptive eyes of his. Shepard had been quick to notice that there was little that escaped his attention, and he seemed capable of the utmost patience. It was something that she greatly admired and wished that she could emulate, knowing that she herself was prone to rash actions.  
  
After a few minutes Shepard came over with two steaming mugs and set them down on the table before lowering herself into the chair across from him. They sat in silence for a while, the soft scent of their tea filling the air between them. Garrus was studying her face intently, as though he were committing it to memory in excruciating detail. She could feel her cheeks flushing. She bit her lower lip and avoided direct eye contact with him. The sound of his voice seemed to turn her stomach into excited knots. They sat quietly together, sipping their tea. Shepard was surprised at how at ease she felt, with no need to fill the quietness settling between them.   
  
She leaned over her cup in order to capture its warmth, wrapping her hands around it. Her hair fell forward across her face, and she felt Garrus’ hand on her cheek as he instantly reached over and gently tucked the strand of hair back behind her ear.  
Their eyes met, and the intimacy of the moment made Shepard hold her breath. For a fraction of time they were absolutely still, and as she studied his face she thought that she saw its features shift ever so slightly, imagining dark blue markings drawn across the bridge of his nose and down his angular cheeks. But they vanished just as quickly as they had appeared, and she guessed that she must be more tired than she thought.   
  
“Sorry,” Garrus said, pulling his hand away from her. “I didn’t mean to overstep. Got caught up in the moment, I guess.”  
  
“I don’t mind,” Shepard responded breathily.   
  
They sat silently for a few moments and Shepard could feel something magnetic in the space between them. She was drawn to this man for some inexplicable reason, and though every part of her was willing her to submit to its pull, she resisted.  
  
“I have dreams sometimes,” she said quietly.   
  
“Oh,” he said. “Bad dreams?”  
  
“Once in a while. But they’re all kind of strange—not always bad,” she said, pausing.   
  
She wasn’t sure how to explain it to him. Sometimes they felt as real as memories, playing out in vivid detail. Other times it was ambient noise. Sometimes Shepard was watching as things happened, floating above them, and sometimes they were happening to her.   
  
“There’s one I have where I’m floating in space, and there’s this ship in front of me that’s exploding. In another one I’m talking to this child, but he looks kind of like a ghost, I guess; a bit transparent. He just keeps telling me I have to choose, over and over again.They feel so real, you know? Like I’m actually experiencing it, living through it.   
  
“Sometimes I don’t see anything, but I hear these noises… There are voices around me, and I try to speak to them but they can’t hear me. I try and will myself to open my eyes, just for a moment, but my eyelids feel so heavy,” she said.   
  
Garrus nodded, but remained quiet and seemed to be deep in thought. Shepard hoped that he wouldn’t think she was crazy, laying out her myriad of bizarre dreams. There were a few that she hadn’t mentioned to him; dreams where she felt the heat of a body wrapping long lean arms around her, rough palms caressing her stomach and chest, tracing her hip bones. No, those dreams she would keep to herself.   
  
“Do you ever have those moments when you think you might still be dreaming? Like maybe all of this is just a dream?” Garrus asked.   Shepard raised an eyebrow at this. There were times when she would try to recall specific memories which would blur and run together in her mind, or large expanses of time that she would lose as days and months ran together. Although she loved the quiet and peace of her life, she had to acknowledge a persistent ache in her chest which gave her the distinct feeling that something was missing. She was amazed at how adept he was at reading her, putting into words the feelings that lingered in the pit of her stomach.  
  
“Are you trying to tell me you’re the man of my dreams, Garrus?” she deflected.   
  
“I’m not opposed to the suggestion,” he said with a charming smile.  
  
Shepard thought that she had heard a deep hum layered beneath his voice, and it sent a shiver down her spine. She reached out a hand towards his.  
  
The edges of her vision blurred and she felt a sudden flash of pain at her temple. She closed her eyes, pushing back from the table and swaying slightly in her chair. She was dizzy, unable to focus. She felt Garrus grabbing her arms, holding her upright as he asked if she was okay, but his voice was distant. Shepard kept her eyes closed as images flashed through her mind, making her dizzy.   She smelled smoke, heard the crash of explosions and bursts of gunfire.  
  
 _“You’ve got to get out of here!”_  
  
 _“And you’ve got to be kidding me.”_  
  
 _“Don’t argue, Garrus.”_  
  
 _“We’re in this till the end.”_  
  
 _“No matter what happens here, I love you. I always will.”_  
  
 _“Shepard, I…love you too.”_  
  
Then everything went black.   
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bonus, bonus chapter.


	9. Memories

Garrus saw Shepard wince, and watched as she squeezed her eyes closed in pain.   
  
“Shepard?”  
  
He had that terrible gut feeling that something was wrong and reached out to grab her arms, just under her shoulders, as she swayed in her chair. Garrus could feel the adrenaline start to shoot through him as Shepard slumped forward, head falling toward her chest as she lost consciousness. Instinct took over and he brought his body over to hers, leaning her forward against his chest. She was still breathing, and he could feel a pulse, but he wasn’t sure how to react in this situation. Technically Shepard was already unconscious, lying comatose in a hospital bed—he didn’t know if it was possible for her to be hurt, or what the consequences of that would be. He felt sick to his stomach.   
  
Garrus slid an arm around her back to cradle her upper body and reached under her legs so that he could scoop her up into his arms and carry her to her room. He laid her gently onto her bed and pulled the covers up over her. Shepard was muttering incoherently, arms and legs twitching intermittently. It reminded him of some of the nightmares she used to have; she would struggle in her sleep against an invisible enemy and wake with panic. Garrus would pull her into his arms and she would lay against his carapace as he stroked her hair.   
  
He reached a hand over and tucked her hair behind her ear. It was still so jarring to see his human fingers, foreign and uncomfortable.   
  
“Garrus?” Shepard breathed, her eyelids fluttering briefly.  
  
“I’m here, Shepard.”   
  
“Can you stay tonight? I don’t care if anyone sees you leave in the morning; I just want you to stay,” she said hoarsely.   
  
Garrus froze. Early on in their relationship—when they were kidding themselves with the pretence that they were just “blowing off steam”—he never stayed in her cabin for the entire night. They were very aware that even with Shepard in charge, the new Normandy was still a Cerberus ship, and their liaison could have drastic consequences if it got around. He distinctly remembered the first time she asked him to stay, after they had come back through the Omega 4 Relay alive, and she had just echoed the statement word for word.  
  
“You sure, Shepard?”   
  
She rolled onto her side, eyes still closed. “It’s more comfortable than the main battery, I’m sure. It doesn’t have to be a big deal or anything…unless this goes against the whole stress relief thing. Up to you,” she mumbled.  
  
“I want to stay,” he said.   
  
It felt as if he were reciting some strange script, reenacting a memory that was not quite right. His initial reaction was slow, as he wasn’t quite sure what he should do in this case. Shepard was remembering, though it did not seem as if they were being pulled out of her imagining.   
  
_Maybe if we both go to sleep?_ he thought. Slowly he pulled his shirt up and over his head, dropping it on the floor beside her bed. He pulled back the covers and slid in next to her, stopping short of curling up against her. Instead he opted to lay flat on his back on one very distinct side of the bed, as if an invisible boundary ran down the middle and kept them apart. He realized that he was holding his breath, his entire body tense and rigid as he stared straight up at the ceiling. Waiting.   
  
Shepard stirred beside him, and he felt her turn over as she laid a hand across his chest and pulled herself against him. Garrus brought his arm around her, pulling her in close, and he hummed happily. It was an instinctive reaction, but he was shocked when he heard the distinctive rumbling of subvocals.   
  
“Hey big guy,” Shepard said, her voice husky. “I had this strange dream about the Crucible. You were hurt, and I made Liara take you back to the Normandy.”  
  
Garrus could feel her propping herself up on his chest, and he forced himself to take his eyes off of the ceiling and focus them on Shepard.   
  
He took a sharp inhale of breath as he looked down and realized that she was leaning against his cowl, with one of his taloned hands at the end of the long, lean arm wrapped around her.   
  
“Jane?”  
  
He saw a familiar blush paint her cheeks, knowing it was the one reserved for the rare occasions when he used her first name.  
  
“I don’t know what I’d do without you,” she said, leaning forward and touching her forehead to his. After a few moments she pulled away, settling back against his chest, and promptly falling asleep.   
  
Garrus’ heart was hammering in his chest, and he was fighting down the keening sounds that were trying to will themselves out. Shepard remembered something. Not everything, but something important. Him.   
  
He pulled her closer and nuzzled his face against her hair, taking in her scent. He brought up his other hand and started to run his talons slowly through her hair. He had been aching for this feeling, for the ability to hold her, but it was bittersweet. It seemed that she still didn’t remember everything, but it gave him hope. He would save Shepard like she had saved him so many times before.   
  
He could hear the soft sound of Shepard’s breathing, feel the steady rise and fall of her chest pressed up against him, and he relaxed enough to fall asleep as he held her.    
  
  
Garrus slowly started to wake up when he heard Shepard stirring beside him. He could feel the sun streaming in through her bedroom window, and took a deep breath before he opened his eyes. Shepard was sitting on the edge of her bed, her back to him.   
“Morning,” he said.   
  
She didn’t respond.   
  
“Shepard?”  
  
“What happened last night? I think I fainted…,” she said quietly, still not looking at him.   
  
He could feel his pulse spiking. Garrus looked down and saw his body—his Spirits forsaken human body.   
  
“You don’t remember,” he said. It wasn’t a question; he was already painfully aware of the answer.   
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I didn't mean to do back to back cliff hangers, so I'll be posting another chapter tonight. Thanks for sticking with me!


	10. Comfort

Shepard was holding her breath as she sat on the edge of the bed and listened to Garrus getting up from the other side.   
  
“You fainted, I checked your vitals and brought you in here. I was waiting with you and you asked me to stay. Nothing else happened,” he said.   
  
The sounds registered to her, but she barely made out the words. There was a ringing in her ears, and she felt a headache blooming at her temple.   
  
“Why don’t you put on some tea and I’ll meet you in the kitchen in a bit? I’m going to take a shower,” she managed.   
  
Shepard finally got off of her bed when she heard Garrus’ feet padding down the hallway away from her. She went into the bathroom and locked the door before slowly peeling off her tank top and shorts. She turned the water on full blast and stepped into the shower, breathing in the steam as the heat barely registered on her skin. She lowered herself down to sit on the floor of the tub, bringing her knees up to her chest and resting her chin on them as she sat under the water.   
  
She took deep, intentional breaths in and out as she tried to concentrate. Things were rushing back to her in waves, her entire life settling in to itself.  
  
 _“Your time is at an end. You must decide.”_  
  
 _“It’s time to end this.”_  
  
 _“Do what you must.”_  
  
She remembered her conversation with the Catalyst, remembered walking up to the terminal and shooting it, and the last she remembered was the explosion. Her real memories were blending together with new ones, constructed ones, and she was having trouble piecing it together. She didn’t know how to explain what was happening.   
  
She leaned forward and retched onto the floor of the tub, watching as it washed away down the drain. It was more than the memories making her feel sick.  
  
Shepard stood up to properly shower off, trying to clear her mind.   
  
After she had dried off and dressed she went into the kitchen. Garrus was seated at the table with a mug in front of him. There was a second one steaming in front of the empty chair across from him. It was strange to see him in a human form, and she wondered why she was seeing this. She sat down across from him and studied his face. His eyes were reflecting such sadness back at her that she could hardly stand it.   
  
Shepard closed her eyes, trying to dredge up memories of the first night that they were together, in her cabin on the SR-2. She thought of them lying in bed, her fingers lazily tracing the lines of his chest plates, then his neck, and the colony markings across his face. She concentrated on the lines that she knew so well, bringing the picture vividly into her mind. She took a deep breath, concentrating on him. When she opened her eyes the handsome turian was sitting across from her, the true Garrus that she remembered and loved.   
  
Shepard noticed the way his mandibles fluttered when he looked down at his taloned hands. His eyes immediately snapped up to meet hers, but he didn’t say anything. She knew that he was waiting for her, with all the patience in the world. It was what made him such a deadly shot.   
  
“Are we—I mean, this, is this…Garrus, are we dead?” she asked quietly.   
  
The thoughts had been bubbling up in her mind. Shepard had never particularly believed in an afterlife, but maybe this was it. She didn’t know how to explain the constructed ideas she had of a separate life, now interrupted by her memories. It’s not a bar, but it’s close enough. Her mind was racing, and she felt the sharpness of it behind her eyes. She brought up her hand started massaging her forehead, willing it away.   
  
“We’re not dead,” he said. “How much do you remember?”  
  
Shepard wrapped her hands around her mug, soaking up as much of its warmth as she could.   
  
“I remember too much. I can see myself living two separate lives, but I know which one is real. I just don’t know how I got here, or why. Some kind of afterlife seems to be the best way to explain it. I’m happy to have you fill in some of the finer details here, big guy.”  
  
Garrus nodded at her and cleared his throat. Shepard let his beautiful, dual toned voice wash over her as he began to speak.  
  
“No one knows what happened on the Crucible. We only know that it fired, and that the Reapers started collapsing, shutting down. There were massive amounts of energy surging through the relays and we attempted to outrun the blast. We wanted to go back for you, but there was no way to get there in time. Joker barely got us out, and we landed on an unknown planet in the system. EDI was disabled, the ship needed major repairs, and the comm systems were fried. It took us four weeks to get the ship put together enough to limp back to Sol, and by the time we did Hackett told us that you hadn’t survived.”  
  
“Please tell me Miranda didn’t bring me back again. Am I full cyborg now? Some kind of AI?”   
  
She meant it as a kind of dark joke, hoping that none of it was true, but she dropped it when she realized how hurt Garrus looked.  
  
“There was no way that I was giving up, Shepard. Not until I saw you—until I knew for sure, one way or another. I had the team scouting the entire Crucible wreckage. Liara was checking all of the recovery areas and hospitals. We eventually found you in a civilian field hospital, and immediately had you transported to the most intact facility we could. You underwent a number of major surgeries, which I made sure were overseen by Chakwas and Miranda. Formally I know that I wasn’t allowed to be there, since I’m not family, but there was no way that I was leaving you.”  
  
Shepard reached over and took his hand in hers. They shouldn’t have fit together so well—his talons, her fingers—but somehow they always did.   
  
“You’ve been in a coma for a year,” he said quietly. She heard the sad sounds layered under his words. She had no doubt that he’d been waiting for her all this time.   
  
“If I’m in a coma, how are you here? Am I imagining this?” she asked, doubt creeping in.  
  
“I’m here, Jane. Miranda found some Cerberus technology that enabled her to connect our subconscious minds. I think it was formerly used for indoctrination studies. Chakwas put me into a medically induced coma so that they could use the technology to link my mind to yours. We hoped it would explain why you hadn’t woken up, and it would let me bring you back out of it.”  
  
Shepard nodded, letting his words sink in. She felt her headache flaring up again.   
  
“Why didn’t you tell me when I first found you, out by the lake?” 

  
“I didn’t know how to make you remember. You had no idea who I was. Miranda told me that your mind could be projecting anything, and that I’d have no idea what I was going to be walking in to. But then I find you in this beautiful old place, living comfortably and peacefully—and I knew that anything I’d have to say would disrupt that.”  
  
Garrus squeezed her hand, looking as if he never wanted to let go of it. Shepard stood up and brought herself over to sit in his lap, pulling his arm around her. Her breath caught in her throat. She should knew she should say something—apologize maybe, but the words were lost. They were so close now, their noses nearly touching. She could feel his breath on her skin, his strong arms wrapped around her body keeping her from falling.  
  
Her eyes met his, and she felt her self control drain away. She brought a hand up to his scarred cheek and pulled him in for a tender kiss. Shepard pulled away from him slowly, seeing that his eyes were wide open and full of surprise. Shepard nuzzled her head against him in the space between his shoulder and cowl.  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bonus fluff chapter, as promised. Sorry about the back-to-back cliff hangers!


	11. Doubt

There was a familiar sensation coursing through his veins. It had felt like an eternity since they had been together like this, since he was able to truly hold her.  
  
“I love you, Shepard.”  
  
It was as though the sound of his voice had triggered something in her. She turned her body so that she was straddling his lap now and pressed herself against him, kissing him fiercely. He felt her hands moving down to his waist and grabbing at the hem of his shirt. They stopped kissing momentarily so that she could pull it up and over his head, and their mouths met again as soon as it was off.  
  
Instinct took over for him now and he started undoing the buttons of her shirt slowly, taking his time to trace a line of kisses down her neck and across her shoulder, over her collarbone. He could see the curve of her breasts just beneath her shirt, but he stopped short at the next button.  
  
He felt her lips brush over to his cheek, kissing the scars along his face, and moving toward his neck and ear. She noticed his hesitation and asked him if everything was alright.   
  
“Shepard,” he said, pulling away from her, “as much as I’ve missed this, missed you, I think we should focus on how to fix this. Then we’ll have all the time in the world to spend together, and uh, catch up.”  
  
He felt her body go still as she sat in his lap and brought her eyes up to meet his. “This is real, isn’t it?”  
  
“Of course it is,” he said. “I mean, we’re experiencing it, but we’re in your subconscious, Shepard. I’m still very aware of the fact that we’re both lying comatose in a hospital in London.”  
  
“Right, of course,” she said, pulling herself up and out of his lap.  
  
She stood away from him now, moving in to the kitchen. He watched as her walls came up and her _Commander_ mask went on. He knew her well enough to see all the signs of her withdrawing from him.  
  
Garrus had been through hundreds of firefights with Shepard, always right on her six. They had survived the Battle of the Citadel, and then he attended her funeral after Alchera. They went on an impossible suicide mission that no one expected them to survive, only to be separated by the Alliance once they had. And then, at the Battle for Earth, Garrus was forced to watch her go on without him, and then recovered her comatose body. After all of that, this was the very instant that he could see her slipping away from him without any way to get her back.  
  
_This is how you lose her_ , he thought.  
  
“Talk to me, Shepard.”  
  
“It’s just a lot to take in. Everything is swirling together in my mind. I didn’t know any better when I didn’t remember anything.”  
  
“When you didn’t remember me?” he said, the cutting words escaping before he could stop them.  
  
“No! That’s not what I meant,” she said, fists clenched at her sides. “I need you to understand.”  
  
“I don’t know if I can. What are you getting at here, Shepard?”  
  
He stood up as well, drawing up to his full height and squaring his shoulders so they matched hers. It reminded him of the beginning of their sparring matches ages ago on the Normandy, when they would size each other up before a fight. The familiarity of it ached in his core. Garrus knew an attack when he saw one. He could have taken any punch she would throw at him, absorb the hits without so much as a wince.  
  
“You know, I’ve been reading a lot of stories lately where things don’t work out the way you think they will in the end. It makes me wonder about you and I, and how this whole thing wraps up,” she said quietly.  
  
It blindsided him with full force, doing more damage than any physical move could inflict. Garrus’ shoulders slumped forward, his resolve crumbling. It wasn’t enough. _I’m not enough_ , he thought. Her words were spinning around in his mind now, overshadowing reason. The selfish part of him didn’t care about waking up. He would do anything to be with Shepard, and if this was it, he would accept it. Even if it wasn’t entirely real.  
  
Garrus snapped himself out of the dark, dizzying thoughts.  
  
“Well Jane, I guess it all comes down to whether or not you can stand it: your life, with me and everything else that comes with it. Whether or not that’s enough. It’s not quiet, or calm, or small. It’ll be complicated and messy and require effort. But I’ll be with you the whole time and we’ll figure it out together.”  
  
She opened one of her hands and brought it to the side of her head, massaging her temple. He knew that this must be wearing on her. He didn’t say anything; he wanted to give her the space to speak. He knew that she acknowledged this as she took a few deep breaths and collected her thoughts.  
  
“Cerberus brought me back after Alchera, and I was certain that it was so that I could pay the price for the Reapers. I was going to be the one to stop them, the one to die stopping them. I was their weapon, and I don’t think they minded the idea that I had a self-destruct.”  
  
“But you didn’t,” he said desperately. He knew that she could hear the keening of his subvocals, but he didn’t care.  
  
She was exasperated now, frantically waving her hands as she spoke. “What more does the world need from me, Garrus? How long will it be before the next emergency? What’s the next favour the Alliance will ask? Or the council? When will I be allowed to rest—to give all of this up and bow out gracefully? They own me there. Here I can own myself.”  
  
His patience was wearing thin now, the questions piercing his skin as sharply as knives.  
  
“Spirits, Shepard. I’ve been a damn fool, haven’t I?” he laughed harshly, and it echoed his emptiness. “All this carefully constructed around you to make you forget, but woven into it are all these tiny fragments of memories, reminders. Here I am desperately hoping that you see them, recognize them—remember. It never occurred to me that you wouldn’t want to.”  
  
His keen was a full blown cry now, emanating from him in waves. His eyes were pleading with Shepard, who stood frozen a few steps away from him. Garrus waited for her to speak. To take it back, to tell him it was a mistake, to say that she didn’t mean it.  
  
“Garrus, I’m sorry,” she said, tears streaming down her face. “I don’t know what to say.”  
  
He could have sworn that he heard the slow cracking break of his heart underneath his ribs. Neither of them moved, but both stood crying quietly for what felt like an eternity to Garrus. Slowly his pain receded as anger emerged, overtaking him.  
  
“It’s different now, Shepard. I promise you, it will all be okay. You just have to be brave. You just have to let it go,” he said. He couldn’t think about it any more; his insides were hollow and empty.  
  
“I’m not brave any more Garrus. I’m all broken,” she said, barely a whisper.  
  
“Shepard…Tell me what do do and I’ll do it. Anything, Shepard—I’ll do it,” he said. He was begging now, and perhaps he should have been ashamed, but he didn’t have it in him to care. “Please, Jane. There’s no Vakarian without Shepard, either.”  
  
He opened his arms wide to her, his last pleading attempt for her to reach out to him. She did not move. It was in this moment he knew that she was retreating, pulling herself back from the greatest battle of her entire being.  
  
Garrus felt sick to his stomach as a strange tingling took over his body. He closed his eyes, willing the feeling away. He had no time to react, to move, and when he opened his eyes again he realized that it was not Shepard’s face that he was looking at, but Liara’s.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "I’m not brave any more darling. I’m all broken. They’ve broken me."— A Farewell to Arms, Ernest Hemingway


	12. Regret

She was trying so desperately to explain it to him; to make him understand that she was so tired and worn down. She had spent so much time being so focused on everything outside of herself: the Reapers, the Alliance, the Council, the Normandy, her crew. She had been Commander Shepard, Galactic Hero, for so long now that she wasn’t sure where Jane fit into all of this. She didn’t know how to make him understand.  
  
“I’m not brave any more Garrus. I’m all broken.”  
  
She thought of the Council that had ignored her pleas for help against the Reaper threat. She thought of the Alliance, who had abandoned her when Cerberus brought her back, and who had betrayed her when she destroyed the Bahak system after following their orders to investigate. She knew that they would want more. They had used her up until she had nothing left, and still they would want more.   
  
Shepard didn’t know that she had anything left. Certainly not enough to give Garrus what he deserved. Her kind, strong, turian. She could not stand to see him used up like she was.  
  
“Shepard, tell me what do do and I’ll do it. Anything—I’ll do it. Please, Jane. There’s no Vakarian without Shepard, either.”  
  
Her body was numb and unmoving as her mind continued warring with itself. She watched as Garrus spread his arms out to her, and she realized that maybe she didn’t have to make him understand. That small gesture told her everything she needed to know. Garrus had no expectations, no demands, and no conditions. He just wanted to be there for her.  
  
Briefly she closed her eyes, held her breath, and took everything in. Surely her love for him would outweigh everything else. She just needed to trust it. She thought that she was empty, that she had nothing left, but she did not realize the truth of it until she had lost him. Half a second was all it took: in a moment of hesitation she truly lost everything. Garrus faded away during all of her indecision.   
  
“No!” she screamed, rushing forward to the space where Garrus had been. “Garrus!”   
  
She reached out for him, waiting for his arms to wrap around her, but she knew that they weren’t coming. She dropped to the floor in the space where he had been, doubling over and wrapping her arms around herself.   
  
“No—I didn’t mean it! Garrus, please…,” she sobbed, rocking herself slowly. She stayed there crying until her tears were used up. Of all of the ways you could lose someone you love, Shepard had pushed him away deliberately.   
  
She let out a sound that was somewhere between a laugh and a sob. _You’re a goddamned fool, Jane Shepard,_ she thought.  
  
She stood up and brushed herself off. She walked over to the table and picked up her mug to take it to the sink, but she hesitated before touching the one Garrus had been using. She decided to leave it in its place.   
  
Shepard was running through their conversation again in her head, analyzing everything that Garrus had told her. _I’m in a coma. This isn’t real._ She concentrated, willing herself to wake up and snap out of it. She closed her eyes, slowed her breathing, and focused.   
  
Nothing happened.   
  
She couldn’t do this. After everything that they had been through together, Shepard had let Garrus down in the end. He had endured so much because of her. Too much, she thought.  
  
Shepard walked down the hall to her bedroom and pulled the curtain shut before sliding into her bed and under the covers. The bed was vast and empty, the sheets cold and unforgiving. Shepard rolled over onto her side to face the space where Garrus had slept the night before, and drew the pillow he had used to her chest. It still smelled of him, the musky spice that reminded her of cinnamon and cloves with the lingering scent of gun oil. She buried her head in it, soaking up as many of the remnants of it as she could.   
  
Shepard fell into a fitful sleep, her memories and dreams colliding.   
  
_“Are you happy here?”_  
  
 _“There’s no Vakarian without Shepard, either.”_  
  
 _She saw flashes of Whistler twisting into London._  
  
 _“Not sure if turian heaven is the same as yours, but if this thing goes sideways and we both end up there…meet me at the bar.”_  
  
 _“We’re a team, Garrus. There’s no Shepard without Vakarian, so you better remember to duck.”_  
  
 _“Sorry, turians don’t know how. But I’ll improvise. And Shepard, forgive the insubordination, but your boyfriend has an order for you: come back alive. It’d be an awfully empty galaxy without you.”_  
  
Shepard wasn’t sure how long she slept, but when she woke the sunrise was peeking through the edges of her curtains, light forcing its way inside. The pillow she was laying on was damp, and she knew that she had been crying. She turned over onto her back, occupying the space where Garrus had been. She stared up at the ceiling, breathing heavily. She didn’t want to cry any more.   
  
Shepard lifted herself out of the bed, sitting up on the side of it. She gripped the edges of the bed with her hands, reconciling her guilt and locking it away. Perhaps she would convince herself that it was all a dream, or that she had imagined it, if only to subdue her pain and wait for the moment that she would disappear too.   
  
She stood up and grabbed the corner of the duvet, pulling it back up and over the pillows before smoothing out its edges. It was then that she cast her eyes to the end table beside the bed, where a glass of water sat beside an overturned book that was lying open and face down. She didn’t remember putting it there, and she never used this table as it was opposite the side that she usually slept on.   
  
She picked it up and immediately recognized it: _Persuasion._   
  
“Garrus,” she said aloud. It looked as if it was close to the end, but hadn’t quite been finished.   
  
When they first worked together on the SR-1 Shepard knew that Garrus had initially shown bit of hero worship for the human Spectre, but it had worn off quickly as they had gotten to know each other. The friendship between them had grown so naturally that she hadn’t even thought to question it. He was such an idealist in the beginning, all charisma and quick wit, and she was damn sure he was the best sniper that she’d ever met. Not that she’d ever tell him that, for fear of inflating his ego.   
  
The recollection loosened a throng of benumbed sensations, longings, regrets, imaginings, the throbbing brood of the only spring her heart had ever known. She realized in that instant that even though she felt she had lost herself over the past couple of years, Garrus never had. She was always Jane to him.   
  
_You have to let it go._   
  
Jane put the book back on the end table, and then grabbed a hoodie and her running shoes. Instinct was taking over now, and it knew exactly what she needed to do. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "The recollection loosened a throng of benumbed sensations, longings, regrets, imaginings, the throbbing brood of the only spring her heart had ever known."—House of Mirth, Edith Wharton


	13. Disappointment

Garrus heard the reassuring sounds in Liara’s voice, but the words she was speaking didn’t register. He coughed as they pulled out the ventilator tube, was patient as Chakwas ran diagnostic scans, and stayed silent as he was disconnected from the equipment.  
  
Garrus turned his head to the side and gazed across the space from his bed to the one next to him. Shepard was laying soundless and calm in the bed next to him. He turned his face away from her as he closed his eyes and took a deep breath.  
   
“Am I free to go?”  
  
“Officer Vakarian, you were comatose for nearly a week. We need you to brief us on what you saw, and tell us if there’s anything we can do,” Miranda said in crisp tones.  
  
Liara was standing beside him wringing her hands. She knew him well enough to know that she shouldn’t ask. In spite of the fact that she had become the galaxy’s most ruthless information broker, Garrus realized that some of that inherent naïveté still remained. He fluttered his mandibles as a means of a small, nostalgic smile. It was all he would afford himself.  
  
“There’s nothing that we can do, Lawson.”  
  
“What do you mean? Were you able to speak to Shepard? I can only imagine what kind of subconscious horrors she was experiencing.”  
  
Miranda continued talking about further variables, resetting the system—Garrus was past listening.    “…maybe one of us should go. We can send someone else back in,” she was saying.  
  
“It was peaceful,” Garrus said finally.  
  
They all turned to him then and said nothing. Waiting.  
  
“It was before the Reapers, long before FTL travel or the Normandy—”  
  
“Before us,” Liara interjected.  
  
Garrus nodded.  
  
“She was in this beautiful place on earth, enjoying a life where none of this existed, and I fell right into the middle of it. She didn’t remember me…,” his voice trailed off. He couldn’t do it; he couldn’t bring himself to tell them what had happened.  
  
“I’m sure that’s enough Garrus. We don’t need to know any more,” Chakwas said, kindly placing a hand on his shoulder.  
  
“You’re giving up? Vakarian, you of all people—”  
  
“ _She gave up on me!_ ” he growled, cutting off Miranda immediately. “Don’t you dare accuse me of giving up. I have given her everything that I have and it wasn’t _enough_.”  
  
Garrus knew that turians did not give up a battle until every last one of them was dead. There was no such thing as retreat. But Garrus also knew that he had never been a very good turian. He was still dressed in his civilian clothes. He grabbed his armour case from the corner of the room, took his rifle, and left without another word to anyone in the room. Garrus stalked down the familiar steps of the hallway, down the stairs, and out of the hospital. He ignored everyone around him and made his way down the street, not entirely sure where he was going.  
  
“Going nowhere fast, are we?” an airy voice said beside him.  
  
“Kasumi,” he said, not stopping, “I didn’t expect to see you here.”  
  
“Oh, you know I like to check in on Shep from time to time. I hung around when I saw that Cerberus device Miranda hooked you up to. For curiosity’s sake, of course.”  
  
“Of course,” he said sarcastically. He could hear the smirk in her voice.  
  
“Look, Garrus, I’m not going to ask, but I just want you to know that I’m here for whatever you need, okay?”  
  
“Thanks.”  
  
Out of the corner of his eye he saw the distinctive flicker of Kasumi’s cloak. Garrus walked a few blocks to the hotel that had been inhabited by turian refugees since the Battle of London. Primarch Victus had wanted Garrus to stay close, ready to do his duty to the Hierarchy when the time came. With the Sol relay nearly repaired, he knew that they would be preparing to make the journey back to Palaven and reestablish order. Garrus had been clear to the Primarch that his only priority was Shepard, but he supposed that now his priorities would need to be reevaluated. Garrus was too exhausted for that right now.  
  
He found his mind drifting back to Shepard, unsure of what would happen now that she would not return. He wondered how long the Alliance would keep her in a comatose state. She had no living family and no mate, so it would be up to the Alliance to make the call. He pushed it out of his mind.  
  
His thoughts went back to where it all started, at the Citadel Tower when he first saw Commander Shepard, a force of nature who commanded attention without even realizing it. He had been so young, and so unprepared for how deeply entrenched in her life he would become.  
  
Garrus thought of late nights spent in the mess hall of the SR-1, with Ashley and Wrex joking with one another, Tali and Liara giggling like schoolgirls—and Shepard, sitting with her mug of tea taking it all in. Every once in a while Joker would grace them with his presence and he and Garrus would get into it, trading jabs while everyone else laughed. Garrus remembered one time in particular when he glanced over at Shepard, in tears from laughing so hard, and when their eyes met she had winked at him. He smiled at the thought. Their relationship was one that couldn’t quite be described.  
  
Although it had started with a bit of an awkward conversation, their transition from best friends to lovers had been seamless. It was impossible to quantify their natural chemistry; it couldn’t be explained, it just was. Garrus knew that the would never regret any of it. He would carry it with him, and he hoped that in time the pain would ebb away and leave only fond memories behind. He would not wish to forget, despite all of the pain and anguish he was feeling now. Shepard had left her mark on his heart and it would never belong to anyone else.  
  
He pulled up his omnitool and made a call.  
  
After a few moments Kasumi’s hooded face came into view on the screen.  
  
“Garrus! What can I do for you?”  
  
“I’m actually in need of your particular skill set. I was hoping that you could help me find an old human book.”


	14. Courage

Shepard was standing at the edge of Lost Lake. She had taken off her shoes and socks, and was standing at the shoreline taking in the morning sun. She now knew that none of this was real, but she could appreciate it nonetheless.   
  
She stepped forward into the cold water as she pulled off her hoodie, dropping it on the edge of the shore. She walked in until her feet no longer touched the bottom and then continued to swim out further to the centre of the lake. Shepard started treading water and took deep, calming breaths in and out. She looked around her and took in the mountains and the sky one last time before she stopped her legs and arms from moving and slipped down into the water.  
  
 _You have to let it go._   
  
She didn’t know for sure that it would work, but she was hoping with everything she had left that it would. She tried to stay calm as she held her breath and closed her eyes, letting the water swallow her. She slid down for a few moments until she could no longer feel her body sinking.   
  
_“Miranda, Doctor Chakwas! Something’s wrong.”_  
  
 _“All of her readings have been consistent.”_  
  
 _“I…I think she’s waking up.”_  
  
Shepard heard the voices and the noise of the hospital, like she had in so many dreams before, but this time was different. She opened her eyes to see Doctor Chakwas fluttering an omnitool over her body.   
  
“Shepard!” Liara exclaimed, grabbing her hand.   
  
“Commander, it’s nice of you to join us,” Chakwas said.   
Shepard relaxed at the sound of Chakwas’ kind and caring voice. She waited patiently for them to remove the now extraneous medical equipment. She was surprised to find that her hair had grown down past her shoulders now, and she seemed to be much thinner. She was brought up into a sitting position and Chakwas began asking her some routine questions. She answered them with little hesitation, but the entire time Shepard was painfully aware of Garrus’ absence.   
  
“Well, everything seems to be normal, although you’ve been out a long time Commander. We’re going to have to take this slow.” Chakwas said.  
  
She was giving Shepard one of her small, tight lipped smiles. Almost pitying, but not quite. Shepard turned to look out the window of her hospital room and saw that it was raining in London. Marks of the battle were still everywhere, but she could see that the restoration process was underway. It reminded her of how the Citadel had looked after Udina’s attempted coup. There was always so much destruction in her wake, as though all she were capable of was tearing things down rather than building them up. She felt like a hurricane, all fury and rage, building and building until it finally dissipates, used up entirely.    
  
“I should have died.”  
They all stopped when she asked it, frozen in place as though it were the last thing they were expecting to hear. There were three pairs of wide eyes watching her now, waiting for her to speak.   
  
“Why didn’t I die when the Crucible fired?” she asked them.  
  
Miranda spoke first, in an even and controlled tone. “Your cybernetics handled quite a bit of the impact and kept you together, as it were. The coma was something that we did not anticipate. I think that your survival was fortuitous, but you had more than luck on your side.”  
  
Shepard nodded, considering the words.   
  
“Miranda, I need you to be honest. Was I rebuilt by Cerberus with an expiration date?”  
  
“Shepard, that’s preposterous. You know that I personally oversaw your rebuild, and I can promise you on our friendship that you are capable of living a long, happy life. Although you’ve come out of the Crucible with a few more scars than you had before.”  
  
She let the idea soak in and weighed it against her fears. She wasn’t sure that she could trust herself to accept a long, happy life. Not when she knew that the most valuable part of it would be missing.  
  
“Where is Garrus?” she asked, her voice hoarse.   
  
Liara and Miranda briefly exchanged glances. They were subtle, but Shepard had expected it. She had pushed him too far this time, and he wasn’t waiting.   
  
“I need to talk to him.”  
  
“Shepard, you’ve just woken up from an extensive comatose state. I’m not sure that this is the best course of action,” Miranda said, using what Shepard had always jokingly called her ‘business voice’.   
  
Shepard took in a deep breath and brought her fingertips to her temples, massaging them gently. “I don’t care if I’m risking bodily harm here. I need to find him.”  
  
Liara put a hand on Shepard’s shoulder and squeezed it softly. “Shepard, I’m sorry, but I’m not sure that Garrus wants to speak to you right now.”  
  
Shepard felt as though she had been slapped across the face. She nodded to let Liara know that she had heard the words, but she could still feel the bite of them on her skin. The tears were welling up behind her eyes and she blinked rapidly to try and stop them. It didn’t matter, they came anyway. Sad, slow tears the trailed down her cheeks.   
  
“Oh, Shepard,” Liara said as she awkwardly searched around for a tissue.    
  
Shepard didn’t have it in her to care. She was focusing on the disappointment of her failure and letting it pull her under.   
  
“ _There, he had seen every thing to exalt in his estimation the woman he had lost, and there begun to deplore the pride, the folly, the madness of resentment, which had kept him from trying to regain her when thrown in his way,_ ” said a voice from the empty centre of the room.   
  
A moment later her tactical cloak flickered out and Kasumi was approaching Shepard’s bed.   
  
“In this case I have to wonder which one of you is Anne and which one is Captain Wentworth,” she said with an easy laugh.   
  
Shepard turned to her and saw that the thief was wearing one of her sly smiles, the kind that says I have a secret, and she usually did. Shepard opened her mouth to say something, but Kasumi put a finger to Shepard’s lips to cut her off.  
  
“It was strange, really, that Garrus should ask me for such a particular human book. Quite old, in fact, and quite rare on paper, but of course that would make it quite eligible for my collection,” she said. “Although I’m not sure that Jane Austen is well known in turian circles, and I did recall that _Persuasion_ was a particular favourite of yours. I think there’s hope for you yet.”  
  
Liara looked somewhat confused, but Doctor Chakwas was wearing a knowing smile.  
  
“Kasumi, do you know where I can find Garrus?” Shepard asked.   
  
“Shep, maybe we should clean you up a bit. I happen to know that Garrus has an important meeting this morning, and we might want to get there before he does. What do you say?”  
  
Shepard just nodded, too stunned to speak. She was vaguely aware that Miranda was running omnitool scans while Chakwas examined some other medical equipment, and Liara was collecting a few of Shepard’s things as Kasumi searched through her clothes.   
  
She stayed perfectly still and collected her thoughts. She could see so many signs of Garrus in the room that it overwhelmed her: the picture of the Normandy from Anderson’s old apartment, set so that she could see it on the table from her bed; her hairbrush, set down at an exact 90 degrees; and a space on the corner that would have been the perfect size for his visor when he took it off to go to sleep. It wasn’t there now, but she could picture it so easily. The simple arrangements of objects told her what she should have known the whole time: he would never give up on her.   
  
Kasumi interrupted her thoughts as she said, “Come on Shep. It’s now or never.”


	15. Closure

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Before you read the final chapter of this particular story, I wanted to say thank you for sticking with it. It has been an absolute joy to be able to connect with others through this work. I hope you like it.

Garrus waited patiently outside of the Primarch’s office and tried to ground himself. It was time to look forward and grow up. He needed to accept that his adventures with the Normandy had given him ages of experience, but that piece of his life needed to stay in the past.  
  
The door to the office opened and the Primarch’s executive assistant ushered him inside. Victus was seated near the window at a large desk that was covered with stacks of data pads. He gave Garrus a warm smile and motioned for him to sit in one of the chairs across from his own. Garrus took the invitation, his posture rigid and straight as he took one of the chairs.  
  
“Can I offer you a drink, Vakarian?” Victus asked as he came out from behind his desk.  
  
“I’ll have whatever you’re having, sir.”  
  
Victus handed him a glass of turian brandy and sat in the chair next to him, rather than behind his desk.  
  
“No need to be so formal. You’ve earned at least that much,” Victus said, raising his glass to Garrus.  
  
Garrus responded by raising his own. “Thank you, Primarch.”  
  
They took a sip of their drinks, and Garrus noticed that the Primarch was watching him curiously.   
  
“I am surprised that you contacted me, Vakarian. I was under the impression that you were occupied with the care of your mate, Commander Shepard.”  
  
“She was never officially my mate, Primarch. And her, uh, recent prognosis leaves me little hope that it will ever be possible.” Garrus clamped down on his subvocals, hoping that they would not give him away.  
  
“I see,” the Primarch said, holding his mandibles tightly to his face. “I am sorry to hear that. Commander Shepard was one of the best that humanity had to offer. I assume this means that you are here to discuss my previous offer?”  
  
Garrus nodded, a distinctive human habit that he adopted from his time on the Normandy. After the Battle of London the Primarch had approached him about his place within the Hierarchy, and was quite generous. Now, with the relays very close to being repaired, accepting the position would mean that he would be headed back to Palaven to serve the rebuilding effort. He would at least have his father and sister waiting for him.  
  
“I’d like to accept, Primarch.”  
  
“I am pleased to hear it. I will send you the terms of your position immediately, as well some recent briefings on that status of the relays and the current status of the Hierarchy cabinet on Palaven. I fear you’ll be buried in paperwork for a little while.”  
  
“Thank you, Primarch. I hope to serve the Hierarchy honourably.”  
  
Garrus stood and placed his glass on the Primarch’s desk. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, Prim—”  
  
The door to the office opened abruptly, but the Primarch’s assistant seemed to be blocking it. “Excuse me ma’am, the Primarch is in an important meeting right now. You can’t go in there!”  
  
“I would love to see you try and stop me.”  
  
His heart stopped at the sound of her voice, and for the briefest moment he let himself believe that it was her. He knew he must be imaging it.  
  
“Garrus?”  
  
He wasn’t.  
  
He turned towards the door and saw Shepard standing there on a set of crutches. Her vibrant red hair had grown so long in the past year that it spilled down over her shoulders in a way that he had never seen before. She looked pale, but it made her freckles stand out and her eyes shine a brighter green. She was being swallowed up by her N7 hoodie, and it was suddenly apparent to him how much weight she had lost over the past year. She looked small.  
  
“It’s alright, Ana,” Victus said to his assistant. She gave Shepard a sharp look and left the room.  
  
The Primarch walked over to Shepard and extended his hand to her in the typical human greeting.  
  
“Commander Shepard, it is good to see you awake. I will take my leave so that you may speak to Chief Advisor Vakarian,” Victus said kindly.  
  
Before Garrus could say anything the Primarch swiftly left his office, closing the door behind him. Garrus stood awkwardly in front of the desk, looking everywhere but at Shepard, who was standing near the doorway. After a few moments he heard the soft staccato of her crutches as she came closer to him.  
  
“Chief Advisor? Sounds important,” she joked. Her voice was hesitant.  
  
Garrus looked up, but still could not bring himself to meet her eyes with his. She may have looked fragile, but that distinctive Shepard fierceness flickered right under the surface.  
  
“You woke up,” he said flatly.    
  
“I had a good reason to,” she said, stopping an arm’s length away from him. Garrus found himself unable to move.  
  
“No matter what happens now, with us, I need you to know that I was unfair to you. I was afraid, but I realized that I should have trusted you to be brave enough for both of us.”  
  
She let out a deep breath and Garrus realized that he was still holding his.    
  
“You were right to tell me that I needed to let it go. It had all been weighing me down for so long that I couldn’t see how deeply it had pulled me under. I was being so selfish. You’ve been there for me since the very moment the whole Reaper mess started, and never once questioned it. But when our roles were reversed I couldn’t find it in me to return the favour.”  
  
He heard her take in another breath before she continued.  
  
“I couldn’t let that be the last conversation we had, Garrus. I know how deeply I must have hurt you, and that showing up here now is probably too little too late. I’m not here to beg you to be with me, and I don’t have any expectations, but I needed you to know that I was sorry. If I’ve lost you now, I will regret the moment that I hesitated to run into your wide open arms for the rest of my life.”  
  
He looked into her eyes then and realized that tears were streaming down her face. He lifted a talon and brushed them gently off of her cheeks before lowering his forehead to meet hers.  
  
“ _I have loved none but you_ ,” he said, a warm sound layered under the words.  
  
They stood like that for a few moments, their words filling the space between them. Shepard brought her hands up to frame his face, dropping her crutches to the floor, and he wrapped his arms around her waist. She kissed him tenderly then, the full effort of her love behind it. After a few moments she pulled her lips away, and Garrus took the opportunity to catch his breath.  
  
“I’ll take all of the pain, and the mess, and the complications—as long as you’re there with me, Garrus,” she said before she kissed him again.  
  
After a few moments he pulled back from her and said, “Spirits am I glad that I finished that book.”  
  
Shepard laughed and gave him a soft punch in the shoulder.  
  
“You always were one for research, big guy.”  
  
She traced the edges of his mandibles with her thumbs and gave him another kiss.  
  
Garrus paused, a small shadow of uncertainty being cast across the moment. “Shepard, you should know—this position I’ve accepted will require me to travel back to Palaven. I’ve committed to it already.”  
  
She said nothing for an agonizing few moments before he saw the trademark Shepard grin cross her face.  
  
“You know, I’ve never actually been to Palaven,” she said.  
  
Garrus’ heart was swelling in his chest. Shepard wrapped her arms tighter around his neck, getting up on her tiptoes.  
  
“Garrus Vakarian, nothing would make me happier than to love you with absolutely everything that I have.”  
  
He picked her up off her feet as he pulled her closer to him, nuzzling her neck as she giggled.  
  
“Let’s get you back to my place, Jane Shepard. We’ve got a lot of catching up to do.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "What we call the beginning is often the end. And to make an end is to make a beginning. The end is where we start from." —T.S. Eliot
> 
> Who knows, maybe we'll hear more from these two in the future?


End file.
